Harry Potter, Let Me Weep
by CanadianWizard
Summary: ...Action, love, tragety, suffering, loss, anger, happiness, betrayal... and this is only Harry's 6th year (HarryLuna nothing serious)


Chapter 1

One Way Letters

The car ride back to 4 Privet Drive was quieter than any library in England. Harry Potter's happiness about all the people that surrounded him at the station was fading, as thoughts of Sirius and the prophecy filled every corner of his mind. In what seemed like no time at all, they were pulling into the driveway, and Harry made to get his trunk out of the trunk of the car. He had barely gotten to the back of the car when Dudley came around, bent low, and stuck his head inside, returning with Harry's belongings tucked under his arm. His cousin was wearing a face of disgust, but the only emotions that came over him were confusion and suspicion. Resigned to figuring it out later, he grabbed Hedwig's cage and walked to the door.

Apparently, Dudley's sympathy only went as far as the front door, though, because he dropped the trunk and followed his parents inside, leaving Harry to hoist it the rest of the way up to his room. He put his owl up on top of the dresser on a little perch that he had bought last year during a Hogsmeade visit and put the cage into his closet. She hooted affectionately and tucked her wings in for a nice relaxing afternoon. After smiling at Hedwig, Harry began looking around his tiny bedroom for something to do. His eyes fell onto his trunk with the thought of unpacking at the forefront, however, he knew what the contents were and was vehemently opposed to seeing them anytime soon. He remembered how hard it was to pack up the day before, and how horrible it felt to find the mirror that could have stopped him from going to the Department of Mysteries.

Just those thoughts made him shut his eyes and wish for a different life. He brought his index finger and thumb up to his eyes and rubbed them softly, as if that would make his mind blank, but all it accomplished was forcing the darkness from outside his eyes into his heart. Besides Ron and Hermione, Harry had never known anyone that he would risk everything for. Instantly, he clinched his fists and fought back a scream.

He was acting like Phineas always accused him of behaving. He _still_ had people like his two best friends. There were still those out there like Dumbledore, Neville, Ginny, and Luna, who drop what they're doing to help him whenever he needs it. Harry couldn't stand the struggle of being surrounded by friends and yet feeling completely and utterly alone. He scanned his bedroom again, promised to himself to unpack tomorrow, and plopped down on the bed. It was only the middle of the afternoon, but sleep took him in seconds.

The next morning, he grabbed his glasses and noticed that Hedwig was not sitting on her perch, or anywhere in his room for that matter. She must have gone off hunting for the night and not returned, so Harry took a shower and got dressed before building up the courage to attack his luggage. As if fate was laughing at him, the item that he had buried as much as possible had shifted its way to the top of the pile. If it hadn't been so precious to him, he would have chucked his Firebolt, Sirius' gift, against the wall as violently as possible. And, if once wasn't bad enough, the map was the next thing lying on top of his clothes, cauldron, and potion ingredients. The Marauders had lost two members, and a third was a Death Eater. Harry had to clinch his teeth and fists again as a terrible idea crossed his troubled mind: how many of _this_ generation's marauders will die in _this_ war?

It felt like being back at Grimmauld for Christmas. Harry wanted to run away and never come back, he wanted all of his friends to be safe, and he wanted to be able to grab a robe or pair of jeans without thinking about struggles and death. He slammed it shut, leaving the map inside, and was at the door when he heard the harsh flapping of wings outside his window. Hedwig was already inside when he had turned to face the noise she was making. After dropping four letters onto his desk, she flew to her perch and was asleep before her owner had opened one of her deliveries.

She must have flown around the country all night to get these letters. Harry looked at all the addresses first to see that Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, and Lupin had already written him. He ripped open the letter with the loopy handwriting first:

_Harry,_

_This is not a long letter. I know that a little guard came and saw you into your uncle's car at the station, and I want you to heed what they promised your relatives. If anything is wrong, please do not hesitate to send a letter, cryptic if you'd like, to someone at the Order. I have learned my lesson from the past five years, Harry, and never again will you not have information that you deserve._

_In fellowship,_

_Albus_

This would have been a very encouraging letter to anyone else in the entire world, but it just made Harry's mind replace the guilt and sadness with hatred and disappointment. Apparently, he couldn't go one day without someone trying to cheer him up or remind him of what had happened a week ago. He put the headmaster's note aside and went to Lupin's.

_Harry,_

_I am sorry for being redundant because I know that Albus is sending you a letter a little similar to this one. However, apart from inviting you to owl us at anytime of the day, I want you to feel as if you can talk to people about what has transpired that last couple weeks. He was my best friend at school and for the last two years. I just want you to know that I'm only an owl away if you need me._

_In fellowship, Remus_

The feelings intensified to the point that Harry almost ripped Ron's letter apart when he opened the envelope. He was extremely relieved to find a note about something other than what happened at the Ministry.

_Harry,_

_Hey mate! I just wanted to let you know that we know when you're going to get to leave the muggles this summer. Granted, it's not for a couple weeks, but at least you'll finally have something to look forward to while you're at their house. Anyways, July 22nd, mark the day. _

_Other than that, things are already back to normal back at home. Percy is still gone, Fred and George still live here even though they're actually making gallons and galleons, and mum and dad can't stop blabbering about how great it is to have the family back at the Burrow. Anyways, we'll all be owling you until someone comes to get you in a few weeks._

_Ron_

Harry smiled, really smiled, for the first time since he and Ron had finished their Divination O.W.L.'s and joked around about how the class was rubbish to begin with. The grin faded as quickly as it had come. The thought of his O.W.L. letter coming from the examiners was a panic attack itself, but adding the subject of Divination into the thought process only brought Harry back to the prophecy. He grudgingly opened the final note, from Hermione. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before spreading the letter out onto his desk.

_Harry_

_I thought I would send you an owl before all of the Order began their spying for the summer. (Too late! I've already gotten three letters, Harry thought.) I know what I'm about to say might upset you, but I assure you that this will be the only time I mention it, and it's not even really a direct allusion._

_Harry, I'm never going to ask you about what has happened to you, not only this past week, but also the last five years, and I just want you to know that whenever you decide you need a pair of ears to listen to you, I'm right here._

_Now, it wouldn't be a letter from me without talking about school, of course, so I wanted to remind you that when you get your O.W.L. results, we all need to get together and figure out what classes we can all take together because Professor McGonagall told me that we're only allowed to take five classes at N.E.W.T. level._

_Anyways, I obviously don't know when we are rescuing you from that horrible house, but as soon as you know, please send us an owl about it, ok? I'll be heading to the Burrow tomorrow morning, so if I hear anything from Ron's family, I'll send you something as well!_

_Love from, _

_Hermione_

Besides being the smartest witch in the world, she was also the most sensitive. Hermione had a knack for knowing exactly what to say to people at exactly the right time. Sometimes it would seem that she was actually making Harry mad like when she demanded that he talk to Ron and Ginny last Christmas, but it turned out to be the best thing for him. Other times, like when she and Harry would notice something Ron didn't, she would keep her mouth shut until the three of them were alone in private to discuss the matter.

On the whole, though, Harry was disgusted about the letters being sent to him on his very first day back in the muggle world. It was just like last year, but in a different way. Last summer, no one was able to tell him anything, and he felt cut off from the world because he thought his friends and teachers couldn't trust him anymore. Now, it seemed that everyone needed to check in on him everyday because he couldn't even take care of himself for one night. The familiar injustice welled up to the surface until Harry almost swiped at his desk lamp in frustration, but almost sixteen years of living at the Dursleys had taught him never to make a sound if he could help it.

However, Hermione's letter had brought back something that Harry had been thinking about for the last week. It wasn't just Sirius' death that was getting to him. It was his entire life. Being Harry Potter meant that you experienced something bad one day in order to be prepared for something worse the next.

He had lost his parents and been attacked himself when he was only one year old. One of his teachers had been a victim of Voldemort's psychological and physical treachery his first year at school. That prepared him for Hermione being petrified and his best friend's sister being captured and almost killed the year after that. Ginny had become a good friend now, and he still couldn't believe she had to experience the possession he had recently gone through when she was only eleven. That, of course, gave rise to his third year at school in which he discovered that his parents' friend had betrayed them to their deaths. Also, whenever this thought occurred, he remembered that prophecies were not a relatively new experience for him. The Triwizard Tournament caused, all the fears of Dragons, Merpeople, and Acromantualas aside, the teacher that exposed him to the Unforgivables to receive a Kiss from a dementor, and his classmate and friend in Cedric Diggory to be murdered right in front of him.

Then finally, the closest thing Harry ever had to a parent and confidant had fallen through the veil. He could remember how much he and Sirius cheered each other up. Sirius confided the Order's plans as much as he could when all Harry wanted was to be trusted, and Harry scorned the Black tapestry that reminded his godfather of a past that forced him out of his house. No, for the most part, he feared for the next victim. Voldemort was sure to attack many people and many families in areas of the world that Harry had no connection to, but the possibility of people closer than Sirius being injured was more than, even he, could bare.

He received a letter every one or two days for the first week he was back, and it was actually an enjoyable week by Privet Drive standards. The Dursleys did something on the third morning of vacation that almost made Harry drop his breakfast plate.

"How was your term?" Aunt Petunia abruptly blurted out while cleaning the dishes.

"What?"

"You heard your aunt! How was your term, boy?" Uncle Vernon was interested, too?

"Oh, er, we had some rough exams at the end that affect the jobs we can get and everything, but I don't know what I got for several days." He was completely confused that the Dursleys were asking about anything magical, but he definitely wasn't going to tell them about Sirius, and school was something everyone could relate to. He still sat there bewildered that his relatives would even care about _anything_ going on in his life, much less something to do with magic; he just couldn't shake himself out of disbelief. Aunt Petunia must have noticed this because she finally broke the silence that had lasted longer than Harry realized.

"We got a letter about you the day before you returned, y'know."

"What? From who?"

"Your headmaster. He said that you had a rough term, and that we should know that but not pressure you."

Harry couldn't believe Dumbledore would do this to him. He had lied to Harry for five years, and now he was taking it upon himself to tell others about things he just learned himself? "Did he tell you _what_ happened?"

"No, boy, and I would think you would use a little more respectful tone with your aunt." Uncle Vernon would never change when it came to Harry, but Aunt Petunia seemed to be trying to be nicer to him.

"We just wanted you to know that we expect the same behavior out of you while you stay here, but if there is anything seriously wrong with you, then you should tell us so they're aren't any sudden accidents." She spoke in a calm voice that didn't suit her husband.

"So no funny stuff, still!"

They went back to eating breakfast, which Harry assumed meant that the discussion was over. He had mixed feelings about what had just occurred, but was definitely not going to tell his revolting relatives about things he hadn't even discussed with Ron and Hermione. However, a topic that he would eventually have to talk over with his friends showed up abruptly over lunch a week later: his O.W.L. results.

Harry, with some dread, slowly opened the letter, as if a bomb was going to explode if he tore too quickly, and scanned the page without even glancing at the message written at the top.

_SUBJECT GRADE_

_Astronomy A_

_Care of Magical Creatures O_

_Charms O_

_Defense of the Dark Arts O_

_Divination P_

_Herbology E_

_History of Magic P _

_Potions E_

_Transfiguration E  
_  
Harry squinted his eyes and squeezed his eyebrows with a look combining confusion and content. He never would have expected to get seven O.W.L.'s or an 'O' in any class other than Defense. Once the partial euphoria had passed, he noticed that he had only received an 'E' in Potions. At first, he couldn't believe he had passed, but then he remembered that the possibility of being an Auror just went right out the window, and finally, he realized that he was done with Snape forever. He would have shouted his joy for days if there hadn't been the message at the top that he read next:

_Mr. Potter,_

_These are your O.W.L results for the examinations you sat in June of 1997. You may be curious to note that your Practical Potions Portion was of an 'Outstanding' quality, while your Theoretical Potions Portion was of an 'Exceeds Expectations' quality. After discussion with your headmaster, we would like to take this opportunity to assure you of your eligibility for N.E.W.T. level studies in the aforementioned course._

_Sincerely,_

_Madam Marchbanks_

As his life was pretty much an endless roller coaster ride, Harry assumed that he would be taking Snape's class after all. Resigned to the fact that Hermione would be the one to go over all the pros and cons of each N.E.W.T. course, Harry threw the letter onto his desk and went back to the routine that living at Privet Drive had become.

Again, his summer days were darkened by the possibility of Voldemort attacking innocent people while he sat in Surrey, and the fact that his friends and the Order were freaking out because he wasn't responding to any of their letters. Every few days over the next couple weeks, someone new would stop by to check on him. Tonks, Moody, Remus, Mrs. Weasley, and even Dumbledore would show up at Privet Drive and talk to Harry about what was going on. They all asked if the Dursleys were keeping him from sending letters or locking him in the cupboard. Of course, the answer to all these suspicions was 'no,' and Harry actually wished he could just be left alone. The only problem was that July 22nd was only two days away now, and even though he would be grateful to leave his Aunt and Uncle, he still didn't feel comfortable discussing Sirius or revealing the contents of the prophecy to anyone.

The morning came and Harry had to force himself to pack after taking his time eating his breakfast. Luckily, the Dursleys had stopped asking questions about his fifth year, and so he sat in his own silence, poking his fork at whatever food happened to be on his plate: he hadn't even bothered to look. Afterwards, he cleaned his own dish and silverware and trooped upstairs. Without even attempting to fold his robes and muggle clothes, he threw them into his trunk, and then placed all his books, his Firebolt, the map, invisibility cloak, cauldron, potion ingredients, and scrapbook on top before closing the lid with some difficulty. With another task done, he flopped back down onto his bed, wondering who he would have to deal with on his travel to the Burrow or Grimmauld Place. He didn't know how long he lied there until the doorbell rang. He looked at his clock to see that it was noon, as he rolled over in his bed with every intention of going to sleep until his own name was yelled throughout the house. "Potter, get down here!"

"Hermione?" He got to the doorway to his friend standing there by herself.

"Can I come in?" Harry looked at his uncle, who seemed to think that Hermione passed the test of acting like a muggle. First of all, she asked to come in. Secondly, she hadn't blown up his living room or displayed a magical, swiveling eye to him. Finally, Hermione, who had been raised by Muggles, knew exactly how to dress. Even Dudley came to see who was at the door and took an unnaturally long stare in her direction before returning to his lunch. Harry did not want to be overheard, so he and Hermione went up to his bedroom. He took a seat on his bed, next to his trunk, while she sat down at his, now empty, desk. Harry felt, as the host, that he should start the conversation.

"Er, how are things?"

"Harry, stop it. Why haven't you been answering any letters, or talking to anyone when they came to see if you were alright?" He didn't answer. Instead, he began staring at the floor, which had become rather interesting to him at the moment. He didn't even move until he felt the bed rise and fall, signifying that his friend had sat down next to him. "Harry?"

"So, have you come to check in on me like everyone else?"

"No, I'm not." She replied very matter-of-factly. "I'm here to take you to Grimmauld Place to _join_ everyone else."

Harry hadn't expected a straightforward response. "So how many people are going to come and make sure that I don't do anything stupid?" The anger and resentment would never leave his tone when speaking of those who thought of him as a useless child.

"It's just me." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette lighter. "And we're going to be there in less than a minute." She looked at him as if hoping that he would agree to the present arrangements.

"There's no way to change the portkey?"

"No. It is set to happen at a certain time."

As so many things were in this life, Harry thought. He turned his head to the side to see Hermione's anxious face and considered the possibility of telling her about the prophecy, but reason took control in less than a moment. He simply nodded, grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage in one arm, and placed his hand around the lighter just under Hermione's before the jerk behind his navel signified his return to his godfather's old house.


End file.
